The Monster Mash
by WonderfulWhy
Summary: Emma's forgetful, Henry's embarrassed, and Hook's not Woody. Captain Swan (Emma/Hook) Read and Review please!
1. Chapter 1

**Damn. I love me some Captain Swan - this is also posted on one of my tumblrs (poisoned-with-prudence) so... Yeah.**

It was hardly Emma Swan's fault that she had forgotten to get a Halloween costume – _I mean, considering how crazy (scratch that, _crazier_) the town has been since we got back, Mary Margret Mom shouldn't feel too disappointed in me if I had other things on my mind instead of some Halloween party_, Emma inwardly rationalized, attempting not to feel too guilty; Mary Margret had been excited about this party ever since she heard about it and had been practically hysterical over the idea that it was their first official holiday together as a 'real' family. Emma flopped onto her bed in self-admonishment and began to wallow – what was she going to do? People were taking Halloween seriously and the party at town hall would be littered with townsfolk who had put careful planning and consideration into their costumes. Mary Margret would be able to sense that her daughter had forgotten by just contrasting her with anyone in the room.

Emma was still wallowing when she heard a knock at her apartment's door.

"Emma? Emma?" a voice called through the wood. Emma deduced that the voice belonged to Henry considering that she didn't really know anyone else with the voice of a prepubescent boy. As she opened the door, her son came bounding in. He seemed a bit lackluster that day with his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed. "Guess who I am," he said in a tone that could be considered a beacon of coming snark.

"Peter Pan," Emma smiled vaguely, gesturing to the all green getup. "That's a great costume, kid – better than mine, at least."

"I don't think that's possible. I look ridiculous! My mom picked it out and now," Henry crossed the room to flop down on Emma's bed like she had only moments ago. "I'm going to look like a dork."

Emma raised an eyebrow; she had never seen Henry so embarrassed. It was a pretty refreshing change from his usually overly confident demeanor. "You don't look like a dork – I'm going to look like a dork when I show up without a costume…" she sighed and sat down on the bed beside him. "Come on. It'll be fine."

"You don't have a costume?" Henry asked, sitting up at attention – this could only bode ill for Emma.

"Yeah, no costume – I forgot…" Emma replied. She waited for him to respond but he just stared at her, expectantly, like she had forgotten to say something, too. "Do you… Do you have any ideas?"

A devilish smile spread across his face. "I thought you'd never ask," he said as he pulled Emma off the bed, out of the apartment, and into the night.

. . .

Hook was biding his time; he couldn't go after Rumplestiltskin right away, of course. These things took planning. So, in the meantime, he would wait for the opportune time and enjoy what feeble fun this small town had to offer. Tonight, that meant attending a sort of masque ball in celebration of a holiday called 'Halloween'. _What a ridiculous word_, he mused to himself as he started to dress in a costume that he was sure would irk one delightfully feisty young blonde to the point of near-blows.

By the time he had arrived, the party was in full swing – Snow White was dressed as a literal swan and her husband was dressed (quite appropriately) as a prince. In fact, about half of the attendees were dressed as their fairytale/real counterparts with the other half dressing as myriad renderings of what he was told were classic Halloween costumes.

Despite his efforts no to, his eyes searched the crowd for a certain somebody to no avail – it seemed as though she had decided not to come. Killian felt oddly dejected at that idea, and his costume which had once seemed so witty was now feeble and somewhat embarrassing.

He was just about to leave when he saw her: Emma Swan. She was being pulled by a young boy who was draped in bright green linens and topped with a felt hat, speared with a red feather. _What in the blazes of hell is he supposed to be? _Hook thought before turning his attentions to the woman in tow.

She wore a pair of leather pants and a corset in deep purple over a billowy white blouse which had a deeper neckline than she would have usually worn. Around her waist there was a black and white striped sash and around her hips was a sword; she was – quite obviously – a pirate. And judging by the fake hook on her left hand, she was him.

There was an odd course of emotions that ran through him when realized this; first, there was anger (_I do not dress like that!_). Then, there was despondence (_Yeah, I do kind of dress like that._) And finally, there was an out-of-place sense of pride – like he was flattered that she had chosen him to mock. _Get a hold of yourself, chap. _He was so lost in shaking himself out of his own thoughts that it was far too easy for Emma to walk right up to him without a moment for him to prepare.

"Ah," she said simply, "Woody."

"What?" he replied, sounding a bit more hostile than he had intended but hey – considering that he was new to this realm, 'Woody' might have been a synonym for 'bilge rat' for all he knew.

The small boy spoke up, detecting the glimmer of confusion in the situation immediately. "Woody is a toy sheriff from a movie." More confusion. "It's like a book but without the reading."

"Well… I am not this 'Woody' you speak of. However, I am…" he said with a deep bow and a tip of what he had discovered was a called a 'cowboy hat', "A sheriff. Just like your town's precious Emma Swan."

The two glared at each other for a long while until, for some reason, Henry started to cough in a way that sounded more like a suppressed laugh. "Oh!" he coughed. "I'll… just… let you two alone, then…" The boy wandered away, coughing all the while.

"What was that about?" Emma turned to the real pirate in the room with a confused countenance.

"I have no idea," he shrugged before a harmless idea popped into his head: "Would you like to dance, Miss Swan?"


	2. Chapter 2

Emma was shocked – at first she thought that perhaps he was kidding, just trying to get a rise out of her. Then, she thought that perhaps it was a trap and he was going to skewer her for his own malicious means. But when she looked at him – and I mean _really _looked – she saw no ill-will in his proposal; it seemed (oddly enough) that when Captain Killian Jones asked her to dance, that was all he asked of her. And it was such a simple request so how could she say no?

Like this:

"No." Emma said robotically – no, scratch that, not _said_. _Yelled_. She said it way louder than she had intended and she didn't know why but suddenly it was like her brain was frozen and she had forgotten complex speech. Her whole brain just screamed "_What the hell!"_ and her body replied "_I have no idea what just happened."_

It seemed like the best thing (no, the _only _thing) to do in such an awkward situation was to sprint away. But no, she couldn't do that – not when she was wearing those damned leather pirate pants. She would have to just turn and walk away at a normal pace, maybe get some punch and find Henry so she could upbraid him (and herself) for talking her into such an ill-fated getup.

She readied herself for her escape: she turned on her heels, took the first step forward and…

"Running away now, are we?" a smooth voice and a sea-worn hand caught her by the wrist and pulled her back. She didn't know how it happened or perhaps she just missed the part in between but she was suddenly staring Captain Killian Jones in the eyes. "I'm afraid, Miss Swan, I can't take no for an answer."

"That's a bit pigheaded of you, don't you think?" Emma raised a blonde brow. She thanked whatever god fairytale creatures worshipped that she recovered in time to mildly insult him.

He wrapped his left (hook-topped) arm around her waist and took her left hand in his right. "I find that you calling me pigheaded is somewhat ironic coming from you," he smirked as a slower song started to play – _perfect, another 3 minutes of this_, Emma thought. She could suddenly recall every slow dance she ever had the displeasure of partaking in – she didn't have a good record as it was.

"Call the Vatican," she muttered, "the Disney pirate has a sense of irony."

"You, Princess," Hook smiled mischeviously, "need to lighten up – have fun. It's a party and your parents are glaring at us – I was under the impression that all young women at some point in their lives take pleasure at their parents' disapproval," he nodded towards a taciturn pair of royals, "and your parents certainly do disapprove."

"There are so many things wrong with what you just said," Emma shook her head and avoided his gaze.

"Name them," Hook smiled even wider, "Tell me where I have offended you, Princess, and I will seek to make amends."

Emma scoffed at him and attempted to break free of him but he only tightened his grip. "Well," she conceded, "That is one of my problems – I don't want to be called 'princess' and certainly not by you. It's almost demeaning when you say it."

"Ouch," he mockingly winced.

"And I do not need to lighten up – I'm light enough as it is."

"Mhm," the pirate nodded, "Tell me the last time you had a good bit of fun worth mentioning," At the slightest hesitation on her part he decided he had won. "Yes, that's what I thought."

Emma's nostrils flared in frustration. "I think you're a bit deluded – you probably swallowed too much seawater or something. And my parents don't have a say in who I spend time with."

Suddenly, Hook swung Emma into a dip until their faces where all too close for comfort on her part. "Does that mean that you want to spend time with me? Because it certainly sounded that way, _Princess_," he simpered as he pulled her upright again. "Well. Not that first part – that part was just mean."

"I'm sorry," she glared, "would you like me to get a bandage for your pride?"

"Only if you kiss it to make it better," Hook said, suddenly looking very serious. In fact, Emma was taken aback by how earnest his words sounded in that moment and frankly, she didn't know what to say in response.

They just avoided each other's eyes for the rest of the song.

As soon as the last note sounded, Emma looked back to him and nodded before walking away. It was after that that she decided to go back to her apartment to drown the memory of that moment in some form of alcohol.

Her yellow bug stood there in the street and beckoned her to drive away from the awkwardness. She had almost reached it when she heard the last voice she wanted to hear calling out to her from a ways back. She prayed he was speaking to someone else but, alas, she was the only one there to hear him.

"Princess," he called, "wait." It sounded too much like a demand for her liking. She grudgingly turned towards him and shrugged her arms.

"What do you want, Hook?"

He didn't answer until he was right there, face to face with her. "I believe you left without giving me what I deserved."

"An attitude adjustment?" she scoffed again.

"No," he said with a chillingly honest smile, "a kiss." With that he leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn't a passionate, unruly kiss but it was something much better; it was the kind of kiss that were in Henry's book – truthful and momentarily uncomplicated, a kiss that simply meant that his feelings for her, as odd and ill-timed as they might have been, were real.

"Goodnight, Princess," he said simply before kissing her lightly on her brow and disappearing into the night like some kind of twisted fairytale prince.

"Well," Emma managed to say after the shock had worn off a bit. "I'll be damned."


End file.
